


A Second Dance of Sorts

by Kylie_Yates (Minya_Mari)



Series: boys are too refined [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: A carry on from Boys Are Too Refined, Alternate Universe: What if the men took the women's names, Don't write at five in the morning without any previous sleep, F/M, Kind of like The Princess and the Queen, Which is referenced quite a lot in this, just don't do it, probably will contain smut in the second and third chapters, stuff like this happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1912476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minya_Mari/pseuds/Kylie_Yates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This carries on from Boys Are Too Refined, and in some parts overlaps it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Second Dance of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> Aegon/Arya because I'm a sucker for this paring, no matter how sweet Tommen is in the fics I write.   
> I can't help myself. Just read and enjoy.

Visenya climbed atop Lightwing, breathing hard. The dragon's wings unfurled, and Visenya had barely enough time to chain herself to the saddle before the great violet serpent was hundreds of meters in the air. She could hear and see a flurry of men now at the Pit; they would not be able to catch her now.

Her father had only recently died in a Greyjoy Rebellion, along with several other High Lords and their men. Her ever-ambitious elder sister Daenys claimed that it was to be _she_ who inherited the Iron Throne.

After openly proclaiming that it was not within her rights to sit the throne, Visenya Targaryen fled to Dragonstone; to her mother and uncle Jon, for fear of retribution.

 

.

 

.

 

Lightwing wasn't all that big; only barely the size of one of Drogon's forewings from snout to the tip of her tail, but her flames were lilac and could melt rock. Being smaller than the other three eggs that were lain by Rhaegal meant that she was quicker despite her lack of strength, and Visenya reached Dragonstone within the day.

Lightwing's great mailed sides were heaving as they landed on the rocky shore, her wicked claws digging divots into the sand, and the she-dragon let loose a scream that echoed off of the mountain and hills.

Her mother was running down the stone steps, Jon Snow not far behind. Daenerys Targaryen had retreated to her ancestral home the moment the raven that carried news of her husband's death had reached King's Landing.

But she wore no black, preferring the leathers and vests that her Dothraaki khalasar were renowned for. Her thick, silver-blonde hair was tied back and was adorned with tiny, golden bells that tinkled as she walked.

Visenya dismounted and winced as her mother enveloped her in a warm, distinctly motherly embrace. Her thighs ached, and her neck had a kink from her hunching over the saddle to shield her face from most of the wind. But she clung tightly to her mother all the same.

Her tiny, stubborn mother.

"Come inside, Visenya. You must be tired." Her uncle Jon's quiet, but firm tone came.

Visenya pulled away from Daenerys and nodded. "Yes," she said, and stepped back to her dragon. "Me and Lightwing both."

The she-dragon's violet scales glittered in the lame reds and oranges and pinks of the dying sun, turning them a darker colour; almost blue. The serpent hummed and rested her head by her mistress's legs.

Daenerys Targaryen nodded as well, arms open and welcoming. She did not ask why her daughter had all but raced to her; Visenya suspected that she somehow already knew the way mothers somehow did.

After seeing to Lightwing, Visenya went to meet her family for supper.

 

.

 

.

 

 

Little Rhaella squealed with excited glee at seeing Visenya again, pale pink lips pulling back to reveal slightly crooked teeth. Though it had only been barely half a year since they'd last seen each other.

Rhaella launched herself into her elder sister's arms, and Visenya caught her with a grin.

"Senya!" she cried. "I missed you!"

Visenya placed her once again upon the smooth stones of the keep, genuine happiness bubbling up from her chest. She ran a calloused hand over her sister's silver-blonde curls. "And I you, little sister."

Jon Snow glanced away from them then, and made for the supping hall.

"Come along, sweetling," their mother called, drawing Senya's attention away. 

And later, Rhaella made Visenya promise to see her again before she left, to which Senya replied she might be staying a while.

Rhae seemed pleased with her response.


End file.
